Set the scene: The clock is ticking, winding down to 3:30. Students anxiously watch the second hand slowly tick by, waiting for the bell to ring. They have their hands on their already-closed backpacks, ready to bolt as soon as the clock sets them free. And then it does. But instead of heading out the front door and to their cars, free for another day, about a good number of the uniform-clad, private school student body heads for a single classroom. The lucky ones get there first. The rest form a line that winds around the corner and down the hallway. And they’re restless. They know Mr. Lund only accepts a certain number of people in his club, and it’s first-come, first-serve. They worry the sign-up sheet will be full by the time they reach it. They count the number of heads in front of them, some relieved, some disappointed. Within 20 minutes, the sign-up sheet is full, and the students that didn’t make it turn away disappointed, already wondering about next year.

And what club was this, that teenagers anxiously stood in line for, disappointed to be turned away?